


The Luna

by MadnessofVoid



Series: Sterek Bingo 2017 [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Hale Family Feels, Hale Pack, Jackson is an asshole, Other, Pack Dad Derek Hale, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Pack Mom, Pack Mother Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-26 04:39:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10779744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadnessofVoid/pseuds/MadnessofVoid
Summary: Stiles has no idea when or why he was dubbed the Pack Mom.In fact, he had no idea he was dubbed Pack Mom.Didn't start realizing it till until his birthday.And it all started with Jackson.





	The Luna

**Author's Note:**

> Whoo! Fluffy fic! 
> 
> Wow...this is the most I have written in ages. I must participate in more Sterek events...
> 
>  
> 
> Theme is Pack Mom Stiles, but it a little different ;3

Stiles has no idea when or why he was dubbed the Pack Mom.

 

In fact, he had _no idea_ he was dubbed Pack Mom.

 

Didn't start realizing it till until his birthday.

 

It all started with _Jackson_.

 

Jackson gave him a mug that said **World's Best Mom**. At first, he thought it was just Jackson being Jackson. Because, well, even after finally accepting the fact that he was part of a pack (which was before Scott's acceptation), Jackson was still a massive douche. Barely calmed down at all.

 

After Stiles put down the mug, rolling his eyes, he opened his gift from Erica.

 

Which was an apron. An apron obviously designed in a fifties rockabilly fashion with a pink and white polka dot tie, pocket, neck strap, and bottom trimming. The rest of it was an elegant yellow, adorned with different colored cupcakes. Erica was smirking as he gaped at it in stunned silence. Everyone else, with the exception of Derek (who was just as stunned as Stiles), was laughing hysterically. He didn't understand why he was given such a frilly apron, but hah! Joke's on Erica! He liked it and was going to wear the shit out of this apron when he cooked and baked for the pack!

 

(No, really. He loved it. _A lot_.)

 

On his third gift, a necklace with a bear charm that had **Mama** etched into it...Stiles finally got the joke.

 

“Oh, haha. Very funny guys. Just because I like to make sure you losers eat healthy, and are patched up from your scuffles, doesn't mean I'm your mother.”

 

“Right. He is _not_ our mother.” Lydia said haughtily

 

For a split second, Stiles was in love with her all over again. Until...

 

“He would have to be married to Derek for him to be our mother.”

 

Aaaaaand instant hatred. For the lot of them.

 

Except for Derek, who looked equally displeased with all of this.

 

Gift after gift...they were all themed in some way that he was the Pack Mom. Even Scott, even _Allison_ , gave him mom themed gifts. It was growing pretty disheartening. He was losing his birthday cheer, looking gloomier and gloomier with each gift.

 

Then came Derek's.

 

It was a large as hell box. Could fit a litter of puppies plus the mother if needed. Which, with how he was feeling, a litter of puppies would be amazing right about now.

 

Instead, there was a brand new Mets cap, a new glove, a black duffle bag with sewn on Mets patches, an array of jerseys, and...and...

 

“Are these tickets to a Mets game?! At the actual stadium?!”

 

Derek ducked his head, sucking on his cheek and poorly hiding the red tints rising on his ears. “You said that you wanted to go. I could...I could sell them if you don't want them...”

 

“Are you kidding?! No way! Mine! No take backs! No take backs on anything you gave me!”

 

Stiles didn't miss the tension leaving the alpha's shoulders. Nor the fond grin that emerged.

 

Nothing after that could kill his mood. And fortunately, Derek must've set a trend, because there were no more mom themed gifts.

 

Kira got him a wolf hat that flowed into a scarf, or something of the like, that had wolf paws where he could but his hands in. And a fox beanie that she _knitted_ herself!

 

His dad got him a whole bundle of yarn for his crime board, and markers to go with them.

 

Melissa got him a new plaid shirt with a massive black pawprint on the back that had his last name on it. (She insisted it wasn't a fortune to have it custom made, but Stiles didn't buy it for a moment and vowed to buy her a nice dinner when he could.)

 

Argent got him a Batman shirt. And a lot of cash. Like...a lot.

 

Then, it was discovered that everyone else had actually got him _real_ gifts. The whole mom theme was just a joke based on how much Stiles really did behaved like a mom friend.

 

“Excuse you! I am _not_ the mom friend!”

 

“You kinda are, dude...” Scott said with what could only be described as a cringe face.

 

“Am not!”

 

“Stiles...you really are.” Boyd sighed. “You take care of everyone. Not just your dad.”

 

“You soccer mommed me the other day.” Isaac pointed out. “You do that a lot, actually. More than Allison.”

 

“And I already do that a lot.” echoed Allison, shrugging.

 

“What? You don't like being our mom?” pouted Erica.

 

Stiles flushed, realizing that, yeah, maybe he was the mom friend. But that didn't mean anyone could torture him with that fact!

 

“Anyone that calls me mom again is...is grounded!” he huffed, nearly slamming down the Catwoman plush Erica got him. “And I hope you guys give all these mom themed gifts to the actual mom in this room! Except for the apron. That I'm keeping. And, just so you know, you have all been demoted, and Derek is officially my favorite person. Kira is still my second fave. No demotion for her.”

 

“What am I? Chopped liver?” his dad huffed in an eerily same way as his son. “I'm the one that suggested to Derek to get you Mets crap! Which, good on those tickets, Derek. That's been something he's wanted to do since he was five.”

 

Stiles looked over at Derek, who was bright red at this point, and cooed.

 

“Awwww! You asked my dad what to get me? You really _do_ care!”

 

“Of course daddy cares...” grumbled Jackson with an eye roll.

 

Immediately, the entire room filled with disapproving shouts and gagging sounds. Lydia had to explain about the whole daddy kink fad, which was what Jackson deserved. Be scarred forever, Whittemore!

 

The party started to go by without incident. No more mom jokes, at least...

 

(Okay, that's a lie. Erica made one when Stiles decided to wear the apron as he made dinner.)

 

As the night wore on, everyone tried to weasel Stiles into giving them the second Mets ticket. Everyone but his father, Melissa, Argent, Kira, Allison, Lydia, and Derek.

 

His father declined, saying that he had seen enough Mets games in his lifetime. Melissa, Argent, Lydia, and Allison all informed Stiles that they weren't interested in baseball. Kira, although she liked baseball, wasn't a Mets fan, so she wouldn't be able to share his joy as much as she thought was deserved. Derek just kept to himself like always, only really lingering around Stiles when he was asked to help out with something.

 

Everyone else, however, tried to be all sweet to him. Tried to win him over.

 

For a time.

 

“C'mon, mom. You love me more than my other siblings.” Erica teased, arm wrapped around him.

 

Stiles scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Okay...you know what? Why do I have to be the mom? Why can't you guys have two Pack Dads? What's so wrong with that? And no. You are not coming with me, Erica. Boyd would die of a lonely, broken heart.”

 

“So...you want to be Pack Dad with Derek?” mused Lydia, this glint of knowing in her stare. “I like the sound of that.”

 

“I don't like the tone of your voice...”

 

“Why don't you take Derek to the game? Bond over the love of the game and your children.”

 

“You're not our children.” finally grunted Derek, ears bright red.

 

“Some of us kinda are. You did turn us.” Isaac said matter-of-factly.

 

“Then you're all terrible children.”

 

“Is this a werewolf thing?” asked the sheriff. “Because this whole Pack Mom, Pack Dad, Pack Dads talk is really, _really_ weird.”

 

“I think it's just a _them_ thing.” Argent replied with a sigh.

 

“It's no one's thing!” snapped Stiles. “I get it. I am a mom friend. I fuss over you idiots like I do with my dad. I try to take care of you and patch you up. But why do I have to be called the Pack Mom? Why can't I be Pack Dad? Or just Stiles? Can this not be a joke? Can we just...drop it? Please?”

 

That was the end of the Pack Mom jokes. The Pack Dad jokes.

 

At least for a while.

 

It was pack night a few weeks later when they made a reappearance.

 

Stiles was in Derek's kitchen, baking treats for the marathon of movies they were going to have. Derek was beside him, helping out and (surprisingly) making small talk. They mostly talked about the upcoming Mets games, since Stiles actually did decide to take Derek. They were cheerful, something rare for the alpha to show freely, and were enjoying each others company.

 

And then came the pack.

 

Scott arrived first, brows furrowed in confusion as he saw the interaction between his best friend and alpha. Kira followed closely behind, except she looked more excited than confused. Everyone else that filed in either gave Stiles and Derek weird looks (because apparently Derek smiling and laughing freely was considered unthinkable), or smirked suggestively at Stiles. It was creepy...

 

“Oh. Are mom and dad making us treats? And flirting? Yuck. Get a room.” Jackson snorted, waltzing in last like always.

 

Before Stiles could slam down his whisk and tell ex snakeskin to kindly fuck off...

 

“We _are_ in a room. In _my_ apartment.” spat Derek, eyes flashing red. “If you don't like what goes on in my own apartment, with whoever it is I am speaking or flirting with, then you can leave. And I think Stiles said to drop the Pack Mom jokes.”

 

Jackson made a disgusted, bratty face, doing some form of sarcastic jazz hands. “Fine. Dad and dad. Whatever. Just don't start pissing on him. Nobody wants him. He's all yours.”

 

“Hey! Werewolves don't piss on things to mark their territory!” Stiles barked. He then turned to Derek, voice in a low, hushed whisper, asking, “Do they?”

 

Derek threw him a glare, telling him, with mostly the eyebrows, that no, werewolves don't pee on things to mark them as theirs. Which, yeah. Stiles knew that. _Totally_ knew it.

 

(Okay, maybe he didn't know. He had a hunch, but Wiki had been wrong before.)

 

“Wait... _were_ you flirting with Stiles?” Scott inquired, his voice a little high and startled.

 

“You can't smell it?” scoffed Erica.

 

“It is so painfully obvious...” sighed Lydia.

 

“H-hey! We can hear you!” Stiles piped, face breaking out in embarrassed blotches. “We are in the next room!”

 

“Maybe then you'll finally get it on and save us from smelling or watching the pathetic pining.” retorted Boyd. (Surprisingly, 'cause Boyd _never_ clapped back like that.)

 

“But then we'd smell the smugness and the s-” Isaac started to whine.

 

“Shut up!” shouted the men in the kitchen, both sharing the red coloration.

 

“Yeah. No need for the image of our dads going at it...” mumbled Jackson.

 

“We are not your dads!” Stiles bellowed, chucking the spoon he was using into the sink. “And I am not your mom! Come make your shit yourselves! I'm out!”

 

That wasn't a threat. Stiles literally stormed through the living room and out the door. He was done with this. Sick of being teased over something so stupid and pointless. Honestly...who even came up with it in the first place? _When_ did it even get thought up?! Whoever thought of it, shared it with the pack, and decided to make sure it would haunt Stiles whenever it would be deemed fun should be locked in a room with wolfsbane petals!

 

(Not really. He would never condone something like that. Even though he was pissed off at them.)

 

As he was about to climb into his Jeep, a hand wrapped around his arm, stopping him mid sitting down. Which was not comfortable at all. He twisted around to the best of his abilities to see who it was. And, no surprise, it was Derek. Dejected as al -

 

Wait.

 

No.

 

He looked...

 

Kind of sad?

 

Stiles tried to not read too much into it. Or tried to pretend he wasn't, at least. “What? Gonna drag me back in there to hear them say sorry for the Pack Mom-Pack Dad crap, then do it all over again when they think I forgot it?”

 

Derek shook his head, biting at the inside of his lip. He was...incredibly vulnerable looking right now. It was weird. Maybe a bit concerning.

 

“Uhhhh...you okay there, Der? You have this look that kinda makes it seem like you may start crying? Are you gonna start crying? I'm not good with crying, man. I am worse with crying than I am with blood. I'm better with crying than needles...but that's not the point. The point is this: I can't do crying. I'm a sympathetic crier, too. So...please don't cry...”

 

“I'm not gonna cry, Stiles.” the wolf huffed, rolling his eyes. “I'm here to tell you that I knew someone who got teased just like this.”

 

“You...did? Who?”

 

There was a hesitant pause. Much swallowing, too. Like this was going to be difficult to say.

 

Stiles was about to tell him to not worry about. That he was going to suck it up and resign to his fate. But he was beaten to the chase by a semi choked up Derek Hale.

 

“My dad.”

 

Those words made Stiles' eyes round in horror and awe. Horror because, oh hell, Derek may actually cry since, well, the guy never talked about his family for probably the same reason Stiles didn't talk about his mother. Awe because, holy shit, Derek was talking about a member of his family with him. _Him_! Of all people! If Derek had talked about his family with almost anyone else, mostly someone like Kira or Melissa or even his own dad, that would've made much more sense!

 

But... _him_?

 

“When he was dating my mother, he was dubbed the Pack Mom for the same reasons you are. He cooked and baked, worried about everyone, fussed about health. Which, someone had to. My mother was being groomed to be the next alpha. And she couldn't cook worth a damn.”

 

The small chuckle that escaped the wolf made Stiles' heart and stomach do somersaults. The shy head dip to hide the equally shy smile and eye crinkle nearly made him fall right out of the Jeep. (And he was barely in it in the first place!)

 

“It drove him nuts. Not because it was killing his masculinity or anything. But because it almost sounded like a negative to him. Like he was being called a mother because he was doing stereotypical things for a woman. And to him...that wasn't right. Especially when Peter always made it sound like it was a negative.”

 

“Your dad was ahead of his time...”

 

“Well, he was dating a strong woman. Eventually married that strong woman. He didn't like the title being said negatively.”

 

“I don't blame him...”

 

Derek nodded, a sad smile crossing his lips. “My mother wasn't too keen with it, either. Mostly because it bothered my father. So she took him to my grandfather to discuss a new title. One that didn't feel like it was being said in a teasing, negative manner. They discussed Alpha's Mate. But...Alpha's Mate was...”

 

“Piling his worth into just being the alpha's pet, or something like that?”

 

Another nod. “That was vetoed real quick. Vice Alpha was a bit more formal, which was my grandfather's issue with the Pack Mom title, it wasn't formal, but my mother _hated_ it. Dad didn't mind it, but he understood why his wife hated it. How it sounded like a pressured title.”

 

“Are you saying that he didn't find something else for him to be called and he was doomed to forever be called Pack Mom?”

 

He shook his head, a strange seriousness enveloping him. “No. He was given the highest title an outsider of the Pack could be given.”

 

“Which is...?”

 

“The Luna.”

 

Stiles blinked, understandably confused. The Luna? What in the hell was The Luna?

 

“The Luna is the highest honor in the pack. The right hand, the partner, the equal to the alpha. Not just a second-in-command. Something greater. Higher than a mate, even. And that already is high in the werewolf world, even though it does sound a little downgrading to some. If you insult The Luna, harm The Luna, anger The Luna, do anything that would be disrespectful to The Luna...there are consequences. Depending on what is done to The Luna, the consequences can be benign or severe. Mom thought that was perfect for my father, who was as much of a provider as she was going to be. Maybe even more so. My grandfather wasn't too keen on it, especially because my father was not only an outsider to the pack...but a human. Thought it was too high of an honor. My mother fought tooth and nail till it was announced that dad was going to be The Luna.”

 

That was...wow. That was a lot to take in. And it was mind blowing to find out that tad bit about Derek's family. He had assumed that the Hales were all werewolves, with the exception of the few he had heard about from Argent.

 

“I didn't know that your dad was human...” he finally said in a small voice, sitting fully in the driver's seat now.

 

“I tell you all of that...and that's what you got out of it?”

 

“N-no! Not at all! Just...I...I just...I heard that there were some humans that were in the fire...I just...”

 

“Didn't think any of them were part of my immediate family?”

 

“Kinda?”

 

Derek shrugged, a melancholy glimmer in his kaleidoscope stare. “An aunt, three cousins, an uncle, my dad, and my youngest brother were all human.”

 

“You had a brother?”

 

“Yeah...his name was Leoric. Leo for short. He idolized me. Tried to be just like me. Our bonding time was us in the kitchen, baking cookies with dad. Or playing baseball. He was the youngest one to die...only six...”

 

“Oh fuck...Derek...I'm...you know...”

 

“Sorry? Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

 

There was solemn silence between them. Hung sourly, chillingly in the air.

 

Until Stiles timidly broke it.

 

“So...why did you tell me all that? Besides saying that you knew somebody that knows my sudden pain?”

 

Derek's ears went bright red, which started to bleed down to his cheeks. Didn't take long before it clicked, and Stiles was eternally grateful he decided to actually sit down in his Jeep. Because if he was still half up and half not...he would've face planted it onto the gravel beneath him.

 

“Wait...are you...are you telling me that you want to make me The Luna?” he gawked in disbelief. “Holy shit! You _were_ flirting with me! That wasn't just those assholes teasing us! Oh my god! You _like_ me!”

 

“I know. I'm surprised by it, too.”

 

“But...that title? The Luna? Are you kidding me? That's way too high of an honor!”

 

“And you deserve it.”

 

Stiles leaned into his seat, gaping and unable to understand the magnitude. It was a bit overwhelming. And it was...surreal...to hear that Derek wanted to give him the same title that his dad had. He wanted to decline it, because he didn't feel worthy in the slightest. It would be a dishonor to Derek's late father.

 

The amount of faith and trust Derek had to give Stiles this title was...astronomical.

 

“We'll talk about it with the pack tomorrow. Hopefully it will make this whole parent thing go away.”

 

“Huh? Tomorrow? Aren't you taking me back up there?”

 

“No. I'm taking you on a date. The 'kids' have the phone number for the pizza place.”

 

“What about the stuff we were baking?”

 

“Isaac knows how to use the food sealer. He promised to seal them and put them in the freezer. Allison and Kira are helping him.”

 

Stiles nodded, face scrunched up in skepticism. “You said you're taking me on a date?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“O-o-okay. Cool. Yeah. Awesome. A date. Um...wow...you were really flirting with me...”

 

“Proper response to you flirting with me.”

 

“Oh...oh, I was told you didn't notice that. That's what I get for trusting Scott. Then again...he does miss a lot of things.”

 

Derek chuckled, a true blue smile following suit. Then, he grabbed Stiles' knees, carefully pulling him out of the Jeep. There was a playful fire in his eyes. Something Stiles hadn't really seen to this caliber before. Made his heart race and his skin buzz.

 

“Come on. Let's go celebrate your new title in the pack.” cooed Derek, obviously knowing what he was doing to Stiles.

 

Asshole. Big, huge, pain in the ass asshole.

 

But a cute asshole.

 

Who promoted him to the highest honor in a werewolf pack because...he saw his father in him? Or maybe it was because the broody wolf really enjoyed Stiles' company? Who knows? No matter the reason, it was humbling to know that he was trusted and valued enough in Derek's eyes to have the same title as his father. To be The Luna.

 

And humbled that he was told some things about the late Hales. Maybe in the future he would learn more. He sure hoped so. Because Derek taking Stiles on a date? Smiling like that? Opening up? There was no way in hell that Stiles was going to let go any time soon.

 

Or ever.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk Sterek with me!
> 
> youfancymemaddearie.tumblr.com
> 
>  
> 
> Check out the Sterek Bingo event! 
> 
> sterek-bingo.tumblr.com


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